


What am I going to do with him

by saboten



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 05:33:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2055582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saboten/pseuds/saboten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The chains of the lift cage rattled louder when you went down at the end of a shift, Pyp thought.</p><p>A collection of my Grenn x Pyp oneshots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASOIAF verse Pyp-centric thoughts

The chains of the lift cage rattled louder when you went down at the end of a shift, Pyp thought. After a night up on the Wall, howling wind and his chattering teeth the only companions for most of the time, everything seemed louder. Still or even because of it he was reluctant to put all his trust into the squeaking and creaking lift. It was even colder at the bottom, in the shadow of the Wall and out of reach of the first rays of light. Pyp bid good-night to the men that had shared the shift with him and stalked off to find his bed, the thought of crawling under his furs for even an hour before breakfast and training quickening his stride. Ice and frozen snow crushed loudly under his stiff legs. It was bloody cold.

  
He stifled a yawn but he wasn’t quick enough, and it drew him from the hunched comfort bubble of warmth, allowing the cold to creep past his exposed throat and collar when he stretched. Pyp moaned words of discomfort under his breath and hurried faster, tucking his gloved hands under his armpits.

  
He knew his way around Castle Black by heart and sometimes he still would wonder. It was different from the life he had before (the one he was forgetting about), when the mummers would never stay at one place for long - when wearing their welcome out; when goods went missing and the traveling strangers were the first the mob turned to; when the lord ceased to offer coin - and he’d meet new faces every other day. He’s never bothered to learn the names and the next village he did even so, the few things he’s known for certain the colours of his tent and his lines in the play. Sometimes, he missed it, the promise of the new on the road before him, behind the next crook, eager to explore what’s behind castle walls and peasants’ smiles both.  
Now, Pyp grew used to the monotony of the Wall, the endless grey skies and the black robes. Slowly. His days grew repetitive too, strictly divided into the same tasks just arranged differently, and the few hours of leisure he would spend with the same faces again. He hasn’t spared it a thought back then, when the days grew colder with each step towards the Wall and his mind was filled with odd excitement over this new place (he didn’t do it _no please m’lord_ ) and faces he would meet.  
Maybe it wasn’t that bad after all, donning the black and counting bruises in the train yard like he’s counted stars before, maybe he grew used to not moving forward and worn-out paths because he found somewhere where he could be still. And it was nice, for a change, not only to meet but to learn more about the new faces, be around for long enough to find out their quirks and habits (he figured out how he could twist Grenn in his follies the fastest but he would never tire of that, and the words he needed to use to get Sam to smile, or how he could soften Jon’s brooding).

  
Finally he closed the door behind him, his cheeks burning red in the slightly warmer air of his cell and his nose running. The fireplace was cold for hours by now and the only sound Grenn’s soft snoring. He took up the whole bed, again, when he went to sleep alone. Pyp smiled while he got rid off his boots and stripped from heavy furs and leathers. He shivered, yawned again, and hurried under the nest of furs. Grenn always was hot as coal and Pyp wouldn’t take long to be warm again.  
“Move, will you,” Pyp yawned a third time, to fruitlessly claim some space on the bed. He wasn’t answered. He moved closer and he sneaked up his cold hands under Grenn’s smallclothes, to rest them on his stomach. The heat almost made his frozen fingers burn.

Grenn startled awake, sucking in air. “Bugger, that’s cold,” he rumbled in a drowsy voice, and jerked his lower body away from the cold. “Seven hells.” He stared at Pyp, who grinned and removed his hands.

“You still have an hour,” Pyp said, content with the new-won room.

Grenn frowned at that, grunted and threw an arm around Pyp, who nestled close into the warmth.

 

  
Maybe it wasn’t that bad after all.


	2. Ghost sitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-indulgent modern AU slice of life fluff while watching over Ghost

“That’s enough. He’s gonna grow fat.“ Grenn took the dog treats from Pyp’s hands and earned a pleading look from both of them. He rolled his eyes. "Were to watch over him, not stuff.”

“Not from this little,” Pyp scowled, dramatically, and ran his hands over Ghost’s head and muzzle. He was sure if the dog was able to he’d whine heart-wrenchingly. One day he should ask Jon to allow him into Pyp’s theater group, though Jon was out of town, on business matters, and has asked them to take care of Ghost for the time being. “Since when you’re such a nanny?”

Grenn didn’t answer, just pfffft-ed and put the snacks away. He settled back on the bed, scrunching a comforter into a makeshift cushion, and watched Pyp lean forward to catch Ghost in a hug. The dog’s wagging tail almost swept some DVDs from the coffee table, and Grenn rescued their soft drinks out of reach, just in case.

“Watch out, the big uncle over there is keeping all the food to himself. He’s gonna eat all your snacks, too.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“I bet they’re tasty. Like jerky. What’s in it, beef and turkey and some other fancy stuff. He’s eating better than us. Aren’t you, boy.” He tousled Ghosts’ white mane. “I wish I had a dog,” Pyp said. Ghost licked his ear at that and he broke free with a laugh. "I appreciate that, Ghost, but don’t ever tell Jon.” 

“So you can share your food?” That earned Grenn a punch to his arm. He shoved Pyp to the other side of the bed, grinning. “It looks like you could do with some.”

Pyp narrowed his eyes, a silent oh no you didn’t. “Ghost, bite. This weak ass is also tasty. Might even be beef.” The dog turned its head to the left. “You too?” He sighed, “I always have to do everything myself.” He threw the remote at Grenn and it bounced off to fly into the corridor of his small apartment. Ghost ran to fetch it and settled in a corner, chewing on the plastic.

Grenn huffed. “Oi, that’s my property you’re violating. Bring, Ghost. Ghost. Ghost.” Ghost decided the plastic to be more interesting and ignored him.

“On the bright side, you can finally get Jon to pay for a new TV.” Pyp leaned into Grenn’s side, and he was all elbows and knees and sharp bones where Grenn was big and solid. Neither of them minded. Pyp flexed his fingers, trying, until Grenn caught his hand.

“Nervous?”

“No. Yeah. I mean, it’s not my first play but I think I don’t feel my pinky anymore.”

Grenn ruffled his hair. “It’s gonna be horrible and you’ll forget your text and —“ Pyp elbowed him. “You missed the best part, ‘was going to say I’ll sit in the audience and make faces.” Pyp elbowed him, again. 

“I won’t see anything of it because it’s dark there, anyway, dumbass.” Before he could elbow him, for emphasize this time, Grenn caught both of his hands and pinned them over Pyp’s head against the wall. Attempting to wriggle free, Pyp kicked him and they wrestled, laughing, huffing, until Ghost stood next to the bed and watched them closely, all pointed ears and wagging tail. 

“Yield. I yield,” Pyp panted and rested his head on Grenn’s stomach when they settled back, feet dangling from the edge of the bed. “The dog feels left out.”

Grenn adjusted the cushion under his head. “Well, we’re to sit him. Come,“ he prompted, patting a hand against his thigh twice. Ghost leapt onto the bed and laid down in the space between them, drawing an ‘ouch’ and ‘watch your step, dog’ from Pyp.

“You know, we should have made him fetch the remote first,” Grenn said, scratching Ghost behind the ear. 

“Too late. Fetch it yourself.” After a while, Pyp said lazily, "I don’t need a pet, I have you.”


End file.
